The Song That No One Sings
by QueenStrata
Summary: AU. Zexion/Demyx. There's a song that hasn't been sung since ancient times, a song so magical it can make your dreams come true—even the ones that you never knew you had.


A/N: So I promised a friend of mine a random Zemyx fic approximately ages ago (read: it was in APRIL what the hell), and came up with the perfect title and premise...and then couldn't write it for shit. AND THEN THERE WAS NANO. Suddenly, a story!

Warnings: A liiiittle cliché. And cheesy in parts. But man I loved writing this.

Disclaimer: Why don't I own these boys? D: D: D:

Summary: AU. Zexion/Demyx. There's a song that hasn't been sung since ancient times, a song so magical it can make your dreams come true—even the ones that you never knew you had.

* * *

_The Song That No One Sings_

"What are you humming?"

The soft question broke Zexion's concentration, and he looked up at Lexaeus half in irritation and half in confusion. The (much, much) larger man usually wasn't one to continue any conversation that wasn't necessary, and hearing his attempt to start one was strange.

Almost as strange, Zexion considered wryly as Lexaeus' words finally sunk in, as Zexion humming. Unlike his friend, he had no issues with conversation, but his interest in music was decidedly lacking. He listened to every genre of music with the same apathy, and certainly never paid enough attention to any song enough for him to know the tune of it.

"Just a song that seems to have embedded itself in my mind from being heard too often," Zexion responded casually, though that was only part of the truth. The song had certainly embedded itself into his mind, along with something else that he was trying very hard not to think about, but the repetition of it wasn't the coincidence his casual tone was meant to imply. He had inflicted the song on himself, really, and continued to do so against his better judgement. It wasn't that the song was bad, it was just...

"It sounds unsettling," Lexaues supplied, and that really was just the word Zexion had been looking for. Unsettling.

"I'll try to stop if it bothers you," Zexion said. "I hadn't realized I was humming."

"It's not bothering me." Lexaeus shrugged, and didn't say anything further. Zexion raised his visible eyebrow as the man turned away, before shaking his head and returning to his own work. Well, he attempted to, at least. Unfortunately, now that his attention had been diverted to this particular topic, he was having trouble returning to the task at hand. This was something that was happening all too often recently. And, as ridiculous as this sounded, it was all because of that music box.

It was a beautiful box. The bits of it that weren't the brightest silver he had ever seen were painted a particular shade of blue that perfectly matched the ocean on a clear day. The designs were equally lifelike: a line of off-white shells were spread haphazardly across the bottom, the waves over top seemed to move in the light, and once you lifted the lid and peeked inside-

Zexion had been having dreams about the man spinning slowly in the midst of the dancing water. The figure itself was nothing spectacular, just a mess of blond hair, painted on blue-green eyes the same color as the music box, a solid black robe for clothing, and a sitar held in its hands. But in his dreams—oh, his dreams—

He'd never seen anyone as beautiful as the man in his dreams. He was tall, much taller than Zexion, with a lithe body and wild hair that Zexion itched to touch. And through most of the dream, that's all he ever saw. The man would stand knee-deep in the ocean, staring out to sea. The haunting song that Zexion had been humming came from his direction, almost too soft to be heard. Zexion was drawn to it. He moved forward, or tried to move forward at least; no matter how many steps he took, he never seemed to get any closer.

Not until the man turned, at any rate.

When Zexion would be just about to give up, the slim form ahead of him would turn ever-so-slightly, and, just like that, Zexion would be in front of him. The face that greeted him was perfect, and he'd be so busy drowning in those ocean-colored eyes that he never even noticed the wave...

He often woke up on the floor after those dreams. If not, he'd be tangled in his sheets and covered in a thin layer of sweat. Either way, the song would be jammed in his head. He'd hum it as he showered, hum it as he cooked, hum it as he walked to work-

"You're humming again," Lexaeus said.

And now he was humming it _at_ work! Zexion very carefully didn't slam the beaker he'd been handling onto the counter. He did, however, throw himself into a chair rather more sulkily than he'd intended, and glared at his beaker. Lexaeus raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything. This would have been a good response from anyone else, but Lexaeus's silences were special; somehow, he always managed to convey more in his silences than most people could say in an hour's long rant. This particular silence meant that he thought Zexion was acting immaturely, and he was really starting to get curious about what was causing it.

Zexion didn't sigh. It was far too dramatic, and would have only increased Lexaeus's curiosity about his odd behavior. What he did do was get up out of the chair and calmly return to work as if nothing had happened. Lexaeus watched him for a few minutes, still clearly curious, but returned to work as well when it became apparent that Zexion wasn't going to elaborate.

And if Zexion hummed for the remainder of the day, Lexaeus didn't mention it again.

xxx

Zexion found himself knee deep in the ocean. He stared down at his feet, which he could see through the startlingly clear water, and wondered how he'd gotten there. In every other dream, he'd been at the top of the beach, staring down at the man and the water with a longing that was far too real for a dream. But this time it was him in the water, straining his ears in the hopes of hearing that infernal song so he'd know which way to turn.

"Hi!" a far too cheerful voice said from directly behind Zexion. He spun in its direction, and found himself face to face—or at least face to neck—with the man he'd been seeing every night for months. "Oh man, I was starting to think you'd never get to this point! I guess you have been enjoying your music after all, huh?"

"My music?" Zexion asked uncertainly.

"Oh, yes, the music's different for everyone that gets the box," the man responded, still cheerful. Zexion was a little thrown by this cheerfulness—he'd been half expecting someone who fit the song he'd been hearing a little better—but found that it quite fit this man. It was even, dare he think it? It was even rather endearing. "I've never ended up with something quite so haunting before, but it's tons better than the stuff I usually get. All the other ones were so...bland."

"How do the songs change?" Zexion asked curiously. "The music box has been playing this song every time I open it; I can't imagine someone makes new music for it every time it's sold."

The blonde man laughed. "It's _magic_, of course!" he said. "I'd think it would be obvious. That box of yours is ancient, now. I've been stuck in here for so long..."

"Who _are_ you?" Zexion asked curiously. This had actually been bothering him for a while, but he certainly hadn't been able to ask before. Now, though, with these professions of magic, and the sheer surreality of the things that had been happening, it seemed necessary to ask.

"Don't you mean to ask what I am?" the man asked, amusement in his features. "I used to be a person, but that was an awfully long time ago. I don't know what I am any longer. I like to think of myself as a genie, though. Three wishes, all yours! Except I can only do one, and you don't get to request which one it is."

"Then how do you know what wish to grant?"

"Well, there's only room for one wish in your heart at a time," the man answered slowly. "So I grant that one. There are all kinds of hearts, and all kinds of wishes to be granted. Even the happiest person alive has a secret in their heart, though they usually don't realize it. People like that have easy wishes to grant, and most people are so easy to read they never even get to see me. But there are some hearts that are more difficult to open. Like yours."

"Should I feel special then?" Zexion asked dryly, and the man laughed again. Then he reached out a single hand and cupped Zexion's chin, leaning forward until their faces were only a few inches apart.

"I've had harder hearts than yours, Zexy." His voice was so soft that, with the sound of the ocean in the background, Zexion had to lean in even farther to hear him. "See, I knew the moment I saw you what your wish was. It was surprisingly easy to see once I got inside of your mind."

"Then why are you still here?"

"Well, you're making it awfully difficult to grant," the man's voice had turned teasing, but for some reason it was getting even harder to hear. "You're a little picky, you know. I'm not entirely certain it's going to be a wish that I can grant."

He sighed at the confused look Zexion gave him, but smiled. It was the saddest and most beautiful smile Zexion had ever seen, and it tore at is heart the same way the music did-

The music, Zexion noticed with a start, which had started up again even though the man's instrument was nowhere to be seen. But it was weaving through the air around them, mixing with the sound of the waves to create a melody the likes of which he'd never heard before. It wasn't just sad, it was meditative, and unsettling, and so, so lonely...

The man was saying something again, but Zexion couldn't hear it. All he could hear was the music, even above the rushing sound that preceded the wave that always woke him up, and Zexion grabbed the man's arms and held on tight, determined to hold on forever and never leave—

The wave covered them, and he drowned.

xxxx

Demyx.

His name, the blonde man in his dream, his name was Demyx. Zexion wasn't sure how he knew this, but it was there in his head, and he couldn't get it out. It was haunting him as badly as the song, following him into the shower, following him as he made breakfast, echoing in his head, round and round and round like a never-ending chant. And if he paid enough attention he realized that he was repeating it in the same tune as that song again, as if everything about the blonde man revolved around it entirely.

It was going to drive Zexion crazy.

And judging by the curious looks Lexaeus kept shooting him over the lab table, it was going to drive his partner crazy as well.

But he couldn't help it. Every time he tried not to think the name, he started humming; every time he started humming, Lexaeus would give him another curious look.

And he was zoning out, too. He would catch a glimpse of yellow, or blue, or even black, and all of a sudden his mind would be back in that dream. Demyx's face was right in front of his, smiling wearily as they stared into each other's eyes. His arms were warm and solid beneath his hands. The hand that cupped Zexion's face left a warm, tingling feeling in his skin.

Then Lexaeus would clear his throat, and the image would disappear, and Zexion had to scramble to catch up to whatever he'd been doing before he zoned out.

Zexion couldn't remember the last time he was distracted like this, if it had ever happened. Usually he was almost too focused on his tasks, mind set on what he had to do for the day and absolutely nothing else. Daydreaming had never been a hobby of his, but it was starting to become one.

It was starting to get really irritating, actually.

xxxxx

"Demyx," he said, and his own voice caught him by surprise. He hadn't meant to say the name when he saw the blonde man, but it had slipped out. He'd been resisting the urge to say it all day and now, faced with the owner of the name, he couldn't seem to help but repeat it out loud.

"Oh, you already got it!" Demyx replied, spinning around in the water and throwing his arms around Zexion. They water was much lower this time; only half of Zexion's bottom legs were getting wet. "It usually takes people _ages_ to get my name."

"I woke up this morning, and I knew what it was," Zexion said, a little more sharply than he'd intended. "And I couldn't get it out of my head. I can't get _you_ out of my head. This is going to drive me crazy."

"At this rate, I don't think you're going to have enough time to go crazy." Zexion was a little worried by the brightness of Demyx's smile, but he let it pass. "If I can get through to you quickly enough, you'll be happier than before, not crazier!"

"I'm beginning to have my doubts about that," Zexion replied sardonically. Demyx just laughed at him, then grabbed his arm and started hauling him out of the water. Zexion followed docilely enough, mostly because he was curious about what Demyx was doing. There was nothing to be seen on the horizon besides the sand; it looked almost as if the beach went on forever. Strangely enough, there weren't even any seagulls spotting the horizon, nor sandpipers dancing on the edge of the tide. The place was quiet and still but for the small waves crashing evenly on the shore.

They didn't go far before Demyx suddenly spun around and dropped to the ground. He patted the sand next to him, and waited patiently as Zexion gave him a long, disbelieving look before sitting down beside him. The sitar appeared in Demyx's hands, and he began strumming the familiar song.

"The song has lyrics too," the blond said softly. "I don't know what they are yet, but I think they'll come to me soon enough. It's the lyrics, you see, that make the wish come true. The song is powerful on its own, but the words are what really create the magic. And they can only be sung once.

"For years, what your music box did was actually really well known. It was passed between friends and through generations, and every single person had their own song. But it was a song that only they knew, and if they tried to share it with other people they would either forget it, or something would interfere with their attempts so that they _couldn't_. After a while, hearing anything from the box was considered bad luck; they kept it shut as much as possible and, if somehow it got opened accidentally, it would immediately be given away. And that's where I got my other name, see?"

"What other name?" Zexion asked curiously.

"You mean you only know my real name?" Demyx asked, wide eyes staring at him. "Nothing else ever came to you at all?" Zexion could hardly believe it was possible, but the grin Demyx gave him when he shook his head was brighter than anything else he'd given. "Nobody, I mean _nobody, _has ever gotten my real name without hearing that other name first."

"...What does that mean?"

Demyx didn't look like he had an answer for that. He gazed thoughtfully out to sea for a long time, still playing the song. Zexion, in turn, stared at Demyx, amused by the way his nose wrinkled as he thought. Zexion wasn't sure how long they sat like this; the sun hanging high in the sky never appeared to move, and it still felt as if they'd been sitting there forever. But Demyx eventually brightened up, turning to him to speak—and the rushing sound of the wave started.

Demyx looked suddenly furious as he grabbed Zexion's hand and jumped to his feet. Zexion stumbled a bit as he was yanked up, but he didn't really mind; Demyx's grip on his hand was tight, as if the man didn't want this dream to end any more than he did. It was nice to think that, nice to believe that someone like Demyx actually wanted him to stick around. He wasn't sure if it was true, of course; Demyx could very well have reacted the same way to anyone who he could talk to. A life like his would be incredibly lonely, and someone like Demyx needed people around him. Still, whatever the reason Demyx wanted him around, he found himself not minding this time when the wave washed over them.

xxxxxx

He hadn't drowned last night. Zexion wasn't entirely certain how he felt about that; relieved, certainly, but he'd gotten so used to waking up all but gasping for air that the peaceful way he'd woken up seemed strange. And he wasn't entirely certain it was a good thing either.

The wave had come at a ridiculously convenient time, cutting Demyx off just as it seemed like he was about to say something important. And Demyx's grip had been extremely tight, not only as if he didn't want to let go, but as if he was _afraid_ to. As if he thought that letting go then would mean Zexion would never be back again.

And what if that was exactly what would happen?

The first thing he did when he got out of bed was open the music box. It played the same music as always, the same endless, haunting tune. Demyx still stood tall in the middle of the spiraling water, little painted smile undisturbed. This was relieving, definitely; surely, if Zexion wasn't going to be able to return, the music would have stopped.

He still couldn't concentrate the entire day. He couldn't stop humming, couldn't get his mind out of the clouds, could barely even read the labels on his material he was so distracted. Lexaeus even had to save a couple of the experiments Zexion had been attempting to keep an eye on. It was a good thing for Zexion that he and Lexaeus had been friends and partners for so long; Lexaeus was too busy wondering what had Zexion so distracted to be mad at him.

"Are you certain you're feeling all right?" Lexaeus asked eventually, after the third time Zexion nearly blew something up. Zexion spared him a brief, irritated look before turning back to the mess he was cleaning. Lexaeus fell into one of his Silences again. This one was less curious and more concerned.

Zexion would have loved to allay Lexaeus's concerns, but he didn't really know what to say. How could he explain what was happening to someone as scientifically minded as Lexaeus? He would think Zexion had gone crazy, which was fair enough—sometimes Zexion was pretty certain that's exactly what was going on. But for him to start dreaming of someone like Demyx, a person who was unlike anyone Zexion had ever known, a person who was so very close to perfect—

Zexion nearly dropped his rags. Perfect? he asked himself, with no small amount of surprise. Sure, he'd thought Demyx was beautiful, had thought he'd never seen someone so beautiful...but perfect? He was too bright, too bubbly, smiled too much, and wasn't even real besides!

And he was perfect. He was perfect in a way that nobody else could ever be or had ever hoped to be. Nobody, absolutely nobody, could fill up Zexion's mind the way Demyx had in such a short amount of time.

No wonder Demyx wasn't sure he could grant this wish. What could he do when the wish to be granted was his own freedom?

xxxxxxx

It felt like he waited all night, but Demyx never showed up. Zexion sat on the beach by himself, well away from the water, and watched the steady rhythm of the waves as they washed in and out of the shore. The music could barely be heard on the wind, soft and stilted, sometimes just teasing on the edge of hearing, sometimes coming to a stop all together.

When Zexion tried to focus on the music, it stopped, and he realized that the song he heard had just been him humming all along.

xxxxxxxx

He didn't even bother going to work the next day. There wasn't a point. How was he supposed to even pretend to focus when all he could think about was Demyx's disappearance? How was he supposed to work with Lexaeus and act like nothing was wrong, when it was obvious that simply everything was? He knew he couldn't do it. He called out sick.

But he couldn't sit around his apartment all day, because all he found himself doing was staring at the music box that he was afraid to open in case the music had changed or disappeared entirely. He absolutely itched to touch it, of course, to open the lid and stare at Demyx's doll and imagine that the paint on its face was anywhere near as beautiful as the real thing.

Instead he went out and wandered the city. Every time he started humming again, he saw someone that looked like Demyx in the corner of his eye—bright hair, bright face, beauty beyond anyone else. But it wasn't him—how could it be, when Demyx was just a dream? Instead it was a business man, a college student, a panhandler, a faceless man in a shop not paying an ounce of attention to him.

He went home and went to sleep.

xxxxxxxxx

The water was over his head, but it didn't seem to make a difference. Zexion just stood on the floor of the ocean, watching the fish that swam carelessly around him. The current seemed to be trying to push him in a certain direction, so he walked slowly along with it until there was no longer somewhere to walk. The void stretched out at his feet, bottomless, and he stared into it with fascination.

Suddenly he was on an island, and at his feet was Demyx's sitar. The ocean was all around him, and it was an abyss that promised nothing less than an end to the dream, and nothing more than oblivion. If he jumped in, he knew, this world—Demyx's world—would be gone as if it had never been. Would Zexion believe he'd just been dreaming all along? Would Demyx's face and voice disappear in the pale morning sunlight just like any other dream he'd ever had?

He sat beside the sitar and picked it up. For a long moment he just stared at it uncomprehendingly because he'd never attempted to play an instrument of any sort before, but somehow his fingers knew what to do. His song spilled from it as if Demyx had been playing it, and he hummed along with it because he'd never been given the opportunity to hear the lyrics. Demyx had disappeared before the song could be completed.

xxxxxxxxxx

Someone was knocking on his door. It wasn't a polite knock, though, more like someone trying to knock the thing down. Zexion glared in its direction for a long moment, sort of wishing his gaze could somehow pierce through all of the walls in the way and incinerate the idiot that was bothering him. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to work, so he just sighed and pulled himself out of bed to greet his unwanted visitor.

"Zexion, man, why aren't you even _dressed_?" a voice was asking almost before Zexion had fully opened the door. Ah, of course. Only Axel could be that obnoxious. Now, what the hell was he talking about?

"Maybe," another voice said dryly, "you should have reminded him earlier that you'd managed to force him into coming out tonight."

Oh. Right. Axel had somehow talked him into going to some sort of show. This had been months ago, though, and with everything going on in his dreams he'd somehow managed to completely forget about it. He just wished Axel had as well.

"Go, shoo, put some clothes on!" Axel was saying, pushing his way into the room despite Zexion's silence. Roxas followed on his heels and closed the door behind him, then leaned against it with his arms crossed. Clearly Zexion wasn't going to be able to get out of this. Why was he friends with the two of them again? He never could remember. "Gees, it's a good thing Roxas convinced me to come get you early, or we'd _never_ get in."

Zexion scowled at Roxas before turning on his heel and marching back into his room. Roxas didn't usually care as much about getting Zexion out as Axel did, which Zexion had often used to great effect to get out of doing something—but this time he seemed just as determined to get Zexion to socialize. Maybe Lexaeus had been concerned enough to share his worries with Roxas? He wasn't usually one to gossip, but Zexion _had_ been acting exceptionally strange lately...

Whatever the reason, Roxas gave him a critical look as he came out of his bedroom fully dressed. It seemed like he approved of what Zexion was wearing, though, because he gave the older man a slight smile.

"Where'd you get this music box, Zex?" Axel called over from the side table. Zexion stalked over to him before he'd even managed to process the sentence entirely, and slammed his hand down on the top of the music box before Axel could open it. Axel nearly jumped out of his skin, then stared at Zexion wide-eyed and curious.

"Don't open it," Zexion said with all the calmness he could muster, but didn't look at Axel. And he didn't elaborate why. After all, what could he say? He wasn't even entirely certain why he was so afraid of Axel opening the music box; was it just because he knew he couldn't bear to hear a song other than his own, or was it because he was afraid Axel would steal Demyx away?

Either way, that box was staying closed. Maybe once he found out what had happened with Demyx he'd let someone hear his song.

Probably not.

"We should go," Roxas prompted into the long, awkward silence that followed. Zexion glared at Axel until the redhead complied, then he carefully lifted his hand from the music box. He was relieved to see that it hadn't suffered any ill effects from his harsh treatment. He hadn't really expected it to, but you never could tell with antiques.

The ride over to the venue was anything but quiet. For a long, long hour, Zexion had to tune out Axel's rambling. He'd listened in for a moment, halfway curious about the band that he was about to be subjected to, but really had no interest in hearing about some mystery song that Axel was just _dying_ to hear. He stared out the window instead, watching as the streets flew by and agonizing over what had happened to Demyx. There were so many possibilities, each more terrible and unlikely than the last; he wished Axel hadn't woken him up, because part of him insisted that if he'd just stayed on that island Demyx would have shown up eventually. But he'd never know now.

Instead he was walking unenthusiastically into Seventh Heaven and being steered to a seat by the bar. He looked at Axel questioningly—surely if this was his friend's band, he wanted to be as close to the stage as possible—but Axel just gave him an unfamiliar smile. Zexion sighed; he must really be out of sorts if even _Axel_ had noticed enough to worry about him.

The opening band, _One Sky_, was, well...it was Sora and his friends. That meant that it was the cheesiest, most upbeat nonsense Zexion had ever heard. Axel was giggling into his beer as they played, and Roxas looked like he was trying to disappear into the bar out of contact embarrassment from being Sora's twin brother. Even Riku, playing a guitar in the background, seemed embarrassed to be there.

Zexion, fearing the band that would come after, just wished the night would end already.

"I swear _The Lonely Hearts_is tons better than this," Axel promised him between giggles. "They just couldn't find anyone else to front them, and Kairi was determined to get money somehow. You know she writes the music?"

"That explains so much," Zexion muttered. Even Roxas managed a chuckle at that.

Thankfully, they only played a small set before bowing their way off-stage. The applause for them wasn't all that enthusiastic, except for a small group who must have been some of Sora's other friends, but none of them seemed to mind. Sora, for whatever reason, even gave everyone the peace sign as he walked off stage. Now _Zexion_ was starting to get embarrassed about knowing him, and he barely even talked to the guy!

Their exit was followed by a relatively short break where everyone pushed their way up to the bar in search of refills on their drinks despite Zexion's less than pleased expression. Axel and Roxas both did their best to block him from as many people as possible (they knew Zexion didn't much like being touched), but even they could only do so much. Zexion bore it up as well as he could, but couldn't hold back a relieved sigh when they started filtering away as the new band started warming up.

"Sorry about that," Axel muttered into his ear. "I thought this spot would be better than the stage, not worse."

Zexion shrugged the apology off, but drained his drink and gestured the bartender for another one. With the worst of the crowd gone, he received the new drink relatively quickly, and turned back just in time to watch the lead singer take up his microphone—

And nearly dropped his cup.

Demyx was on the stage. Demyx was grinning his familiar brilliant grin at the crowd gathered in front of him, his sitar dangling carelessly from its strap, and holding the microphone with both hands as he scanned the crowd. When his eyes caught sight of Zexion staring at him from the bar, his grin—didn't fade, exactly, but it got softer around the edges.

"...and at the end of the set tonight," he was saying as Zexion finally managed to tune in over his shock, "we'll be debuting a new song that I've been working on for some time. It's dedicated to a very _special_ someone in the crowd tonight. He knows who he is."

And then his gaze slid from Zexion's as he put the microphone back onto the stand and picked up his sitar instead. Zexion all but deflated, feeling as if he'd been released from some sort of spell, and leaned heavily against the counter at his back. What the hell was going on?

He watched Demyx closely through the set. He seemed perfectly at ease with everything in this world; he was clearly familiar with his bandmates, didn't seem to have any trouble with any of the electronics, and handled the screaming crowd like a professional. How could the Demyx from his dreams be the same person as this real life Demyx who knew things about the modern world that Zexion couldn't even pretend to know?

And there was no doubt that it _was_ his Demyx. The man couldn't seem to keep his eyes away from the bar Zexion was sitting at, which Axel commented on more than once. Even when the band paused for a break, his eyes lingered on Zexion for a long moment before he disappeared behind stage.

"Seriously, why can't Dem stop looking in this direction?" Axel asked for what had to be the dozenth time. Zexion didn't answer him, just gestured for yet another drink before the bartender could get bogged down with the masses.

"He did say there was someone special in the crowd," Roxas pointed out. He was eyeing Zexion with a little bit of concern. Zexion wasn't usually a heavy drinker—in fact, he tended to avoid alcohol as much as possible because he usually had to drive the other two idiots home—but he felt like he needed a drink or three right now. "Are you alright, Zexion?"

Not in the slightest. "I'm fine," Zexion replied, though he stared into his drink as he did so. The last thing he wanted was for Roxas to get concerned enough to try to take him home, and if he realized that Zexion was anything _but_ fine that's exactly what would happen. But he couldn't go home tonight, not if Demyx was going to come talk to him after his gig was over. "This is just what happens when idiots start pounding on my door while I'm trying to sleep."

"Lay off him, Rox," Axel snickered. "If he's still making grumpy remarks like that, he can't be doing too bad."

Zexion spared him a brief glare.

"There, see?" Axel pointed right into Zexion's face from barely an inch away. "See that glare? That is a glare that could set a man on fire. It puts all other glares to shame. Zexy can't pull it off when he's feeling really awful."

"I wish it actually could set you on fire," Zexion said flatly.

Roxas snorted. "Okay," he said. "I guess you're not doing that bad. But you might want to slow down. I don't think I've _ever_ seen you have more than two drinks in an entire night."

"That's because I usually have to drive a pair of drunken idiots back to my apartment to spend the night on my floor."

"You're a cruel man, Zexion," Axel sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "And I'm proud to know you."

Zexion rolled his eyes, but didn't get a chance to respond as the band started filing back onto the stage again. When he looked back up at them, he found that Demyx's eyes had already found him again, and were staring at him with no small amount of longing. There was an equally large amount of impatience in that gaze, and Zexion imagined that he couldn't wait to finish the next set. Zexion raised his cup fractionally in the barest hint of a greeting, and Demyx's entire face predictably lit up.

When their gazes finally fell apart, Zexion almost jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder. He looked up into Roxas' eyes and frowned at the knowing look on his younger friend's face.

"I don't suppose you know anything about Demyx's mystery song?" Roxas asked him, smirking in a way that had to have been copied off of Axel. Roxas's facial expressions weren't naturally that annoying. "Only he did tell us that just one person outside of the band was aware of it at all."

"Say what?" Axel asked, turning to them with an almost comical look of surprise. "Zexion, you sneaky little shit! Is _that_ what you've been driving Lexaeus crazy with?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Zexion informed both of them loftily, but couldn't stop the smirk that crawled up on his face. Then he even managed a slight laugh when Axel and Roxas gave him identical disbelieving looks, and he turned back to the stage with a smile on his face just in time to catch Demyx looking at them again. The singer seemed more than pleased with Zexion's smile, and gave the three of them a brief wave mid-song.

Most of the crowd seemed to catch on to who Demyx was looking at as the songs went by. Quite a few people were giving him curious glances, no doubt thrown off by his nearly expressionless face and the dark clothing he was wearing, but for the most part they left him alone. Axel, of course, had no such restraints, and continuously pestered him for information as the band's music became steadily softer.

But even he quieted down when Demyx's fingers started strumming the tune to Zexion's song, and the blond man leaned closer to the microphone with the brightest smile yet.

"So this is a song I've been working on for a while," he began, only playing the same few notes as he spoke. "I met this guy a few months ago and, well, let's just say he kind of inspired me. Anyway, this one is called _The Song That No One Sings_."

Zexion could never say afterwards what the lyrics of the song had been. For the most part, he had a distinct impression of a love song, which seemed both fitting and completely wrong at the same time. His and Demyx's story was certainly a love song, there was no doubt about that—but that sad, haunting music just didn't call for romantic lyrics.

But they weren't important anyway. What was important was the thought he had as soon as he'd heard the title of the song. _The Song That No One Sings._ This was Demyx's other name, the one that Zexion had never realized, but it made so much sense. He'd thought it had been the song that was haunting him this entire time, but it turns out that it was Demyx all along.

When the song finally ended, Demyx only took in the applause from the crowd for a short time before he was handing his sitar off to one of his bandmates and jumping off the stage. He didn't run over to Zexion despite his obvious impatience. He _did_ walk quickly, though, as the crowd moved away from in front of him. When he reached Zexion, he unceremoniously pulled the shorter man into a kiss. Any other person, and any other time, Zexion would have just as unceremoniously shoved the other person away; but this was Demyx, who he'd been concerned he would never see again, and he just didn't have the strength to push him away. He pulled him closer instead, wrapping his arms around the taller man's shoulders and pushing their bodies together.

The crowd was cheering for them as they pulled apart, and Zexion made a mental note to smack Axel later for whatever infernal chant he'd started. Right then he couldn't really bring himself to care. Demyx was real now, and smiling only at him, and just as ridiculously perfect as he'd been in all of the dreams.

* * *

A/N: I still can't believe this story took me nearly eight months to write, but I'm so happy I finally managed to finish it. It's my first real story focusing on a pairing other than Axel/Roxas, and I'm kind of ridiculously pleased with how it turned out. I sincerely hope everyone enjoyed reading this at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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